


stole me a dog-eared map (and called for you everywhere)

by daleked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Party at Lydia's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daleked/pseuds/daleked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles comes back from college sexy. Jaws are dropped. Sexual tension is resolved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stole me a dog-eared map (and called for you everywhere)

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I wrote sex! As a role, I tend not to write sex because sex and crack usually don't mix. But Stiles was blue-balled and so was Derek. So they coerced me into letting them go at it.
> 
> Also, the song that they sway to is Flightless Bird. It is also the title. You know it, I know it, let us all bask in the hipster cred.

"Oh my God," Lydia says. "It's Stiles."

"I demand you let me through to see what this commotion is about!" Scott yells from the back of the group. Allison is at the front with Lydia and she giggles as Stiles comes in through the door with a large group of drag queens. 

"You look wonderful, baby, don't worry," one of them coos before drifting off to another corner of Lydia's place. Stiles comes towards his friends, hands stretched out and grin plastered on his face. Scott barrels through and tackles Stiles, hugging him.

"Stiles, I have missed you- oh god. Oh my god, Stiles. You're hot." Stiles accepts the compliment with a shy smile, and Scott crows. "You are going to get laid tonight, buddy!"

"And you're drunk," Stiles tells Scott. "Wait, nope, sorry. You're just acting drunk. Like all the girls in my college do."

"It's fashionable," Scott tells him. "Like hats and floral prints in spring."

"Sorry, he's just been talking to Danny a lot this evening," Allison apologises as she hauls her fiancé off Stiles. "But seriously. In the immortal words of Evan Lysacek, you are a delich protein shake." Stiles stands up and runs a self-conscious hand through his hair. He's simply dressed in a dark blue shirt and khaki trousers, and he has put on a bit of muscle since leaving for college. Enough to look lean instead of just plain skinny. Lydia hugs him and waves the rest of the pack over. They look at him, and Erica purrs aloud.

"Oh man, I had good taste," she says warmly, coming forward to sling an arm around his shoulders. He reciprocates and for a moment, they revel in their mutual Batman-and-Catwoman nerdiness. 

The party seems to slow down when Derek pushes through the crowd. There's an electric silence as he stares at Stiles, eyes roving slowly over long legs and bright eyes. The tension is broken by Scott coughing up a peanut m&m in the corner, hacking and wheezing. Allison is hovering around him with a glass of water, and Scott puts a thumbs up over his head to show everyone that he's totally fine.

"Welcome back," Derek says shortly, and melts back into the crowd.

"Totally getting laid," Lydia mouths to Stiles while Jackson makes obscene gestures with his hands near Lydia's face. They giggle like a modern day Bonnie-and-Clyde duo before clinking cups and downing their drinks. Stiles sees Jackson move off to the poolside area, and Lydia veers towards the makeshift dance floor in the living room.

"Hey, man, how's college?" Boyd is the only person who went to college further away from Beacon Hills than Stiles did, and they both start trading stories of getting to know new people and weird dorm mates who somehow think it is okay to borrow one's toothbrush to use as dish washing sponge. (It isn't.) 

They chat until Erica comes back to steal Boyd away, with a murmured apology, wink and some pushing of Stiles in Derek's direction. Stiles ends up in front of Derek just as the DJ decides to play a suggestive song, so they stand in front of each other awkwardly until Jackson shoves Derek from the back and pretends to be dancing with Lydia. Derek stumbles closer into Stiles' personal space, and they end up swaying a little to the beat, even though most people at parties are inspired to do more than just sway against the people they fancy with the current song playing.

+

"So, how's life?" Stiles asks, grinning. Derek blinks. He's never really noticed, but Stiles is a little taller now, which means that he can look Derek straight in the eye without tilting his head the tiniest bit upwards. It makes Derek feel stalked, somehow. Like prey.

"I'm working with your father now," Derek says gruffly. 

"I heard. Every Skype call was somehow about Dad gushing on about how competent you are at this line of work." Derek can't help but grin at that, and he puts a hand at the base of Stiles' spine when they move a fraction closer and Stiles wobbles. Isaac swings past with Danny and they both shoot Derek a thumbs-up and a wink respectively, which earns them a flash of red eyes. 

The song changes to the one that played at Stiles' graduation, a slow tune that Derek recognises off the Twilight movies. (He remembers sitting through them with the pack, while Stiles lectures them about how important it is to watch every single crap film that mentions werewolves.) A few people cheer at the song, and most of them segue into a slower dance. Stiles continues swaying with Derek, still clutching a cup to his chest. 

+

Derek seems almost at peace, moving slowly around the dancefloor with Stiles, who puts his cup down when they move past a table before placing a tentative hand on Derek's hip. And then it hits him like a club to the face.

This has been a long time coming. It's almost ridiculous. Four years of dancing around each other (metaphorically), being pressed up against walls and snarled at, making battle plans and having Derek hide out in his room.

Stiles wants to tell Derek this, so he looks him in the eye instead of staring at the general area of his cheekbones. Derek's gaze is careful and shuttered. Stiles thinks that he could possibly make Derek's heart open like a flower, trusting and receiving. He thinks he could do that, at least, he can try, so he leans in.

They kiss. It's chaste, but it feels like the weight of a thousand worlds has evaporated off him only to be replaced by the crackle of actual sexual tension. It makes his hairs stand, and he doesn't realise that he's withdrawn a little until he hears Derek's low growl.

"Slow down there, Wolfman," Stiles murmurs, and smiles against Derek's stubble.

Applause sounds, and some of the drag queens are whooping. He doesn't get why, because it was a close-mouthed kiss. Then he actually looks up, and Lydia is holding up a sign that says 'FINALLY' and Danny has pencilled 7 on a cup and holds it up. Scott sees the cup and scribbles something on his own.

"Seriously? Just an '8'? I thought we were bros!" Stiles huffs, offended.

"Must have been the dismount," Erica snickers, and high-fives Isaac. Jackson is collecting money from Boyd and saying something about not betting against the house and really, was everyone in on this? Also, why does Lydia have a sign that says 'finally'?

"We just keep it around," Allison tells him. "You know, because you and Derek might choose to finally acknowledge your forbidden love anywhere."

"I did not know that I just said that out loud," Stiles says. "Lydia, I am going to borrow your guest bedroom and have sex with Derek Hale, who is my father's deputy and really hot."

"You also that out loud," Scott points out helpfully. 

"I did that on purpose," Stiles reassures him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to get laid."

As they go up the stairs, Stiles has to stifle a laugh when he overhears Scott's words.

"Allison," Scott says in wonderment. "I am a seer."

Derek presses Stiles against a wall and kisses him soundly. This time, no chastity involved- Stiles is pretty sure his brain might start leaking out of his dick, though. Derek kisses him like he wants to own him, to curl inside his skin and wrap it around his knuckles and smooth the jagged edges of his personality over. It's almost poetic except for the fact that Stiles is as horny as fuck and he adds the pretty literature bits only in hindsight.

"Do you want this?" Oh, god, why has Derek stopped kissing him? To ask that? Seriously?

"If you don't fuck me six ways from Sunday, I will pull a Gerard except on a smaller scale and send a gecko after your blood," Stiles promises. "Now shut up and kiss me." 

"I'm serious." Stiles exhales and reminds himself that he's dealing with a living human embodiment of man pain.

"I've been serious since I was sixteen. What do you want, a legally binding document?" Derek leans in and they breathe the same air for a moment.

"Just a verbal confirmation will do," Derek says quietly, and they manoeuvre, six steps to the left and that's the guest bedroom.

+

There is something about Stiles that radiates hope and trust, like he trusts that Derek won't wolf out and rend his body to ribbons with his alpha claws. To be honest, Derek doesn't really trust that he won't do that.

But it's Stiles. 

He remembers feeling reassured when Stiles went off to college, hair still in a buzzcut and wearing layers of baggy clothes. He remembers looking at him, and smiling, and hoping that no one will go after Stiles in college. 

Too young. Stiles is still young and has yet to see the world. Derek won't deny him that, or the chance to experiment. Despite the fact that Derek has been told that he pumps out arousal like a cat in heat when Stiles comes near, he's been holding back.

The delightful phrase had been coined by Uncle Peter, who seems to delight in coming up with various ways to piss off Derek daily. 

He's snapped back to the present by Stiles pushing him back so he's sitting on the bed as the sound of Stiles' knees hitting the floor reaches his ears. Derek undoes his belt and the button of his jeans, cock straining through his underwear. Stiles pushes his hands away, and shakes his head. Reflexively, Derek's hand lands in Stiles' hair. 

"I'm just going to, okay. Go." Stiles pulls down his zipper and tugs the boxers down reverently, exposing Derek's erect cock. He graces it with kitten licks to the tip, and Derek thrusts up with a groan.

Stiles goes down on him. His tongue flutters against the underside as he tries to take it all, cheeks hollowing artfully. Derek has never seen anything hotter and says so, hand fisting in Stiles' hair while trying valiantly not to buck up into Stiles' mouth.

"Oh fuck, Stiles, your mouth wrapped around me, oh god, fuck, Stiles, please." The words spill out in a hot, dirty stream, and it seems to encourage Stiles. His hand is clenched around Derek's belt, the other stroking the part of Derek's cock he can't fit into his mouth. Stiles turns his head a little, retracting, tongue dipping against the slit. Derek makes a strangled noise and comes, thrusting up twice. 

Stiles coughs and smiles up at him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Where'd you," Derek says, waving his hand vaguely. Stiles' smile turns saucy and he gets up, undoing his trousers. He's getting himself off, Derek realises, and finds that he has even less experience than Stiles in this area. He reaches out a hand to Stiles' cock and wraps his fingers around it, jerking him off slowly. Stiles whimpers and his dick twitches in Derek's hand. Derek grows bolder and starts experimenting on the stroke.

With a cry, Stiles comes undone. Derek watches as his come lands on his arm, some dribbling down slowly to coat his fist.

"Amazing what blowjob tips you can get from a few issues of Cosmopolitan and dozens of Jolly Ranchers," Stiles says, and collapses on Derek like a rag doll while snuffling laughter into his ear.

"Ticklish," Derek complains, but moves closer to Stiles anyway.

"Derek Hale, cuddler," Stiles mumbles. "I know your secret, dude." He stretches out a hand and pulls Derek closer, pressing his softening cock against Derek's. 

"Shut up, Stiles," Derek says, and nuzzles his jawline, biting kisses into the line of his neck. Stiles squirms but doesn't seem to mind, and his leg wraps around Derek's.

They stay there for the night, ready for whatever the morning will bring.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you thought of this.


End file.
